The Slow Down Protocol
by LadyDivine91
Summary: After a few months of dating, Kurt discovers that Blaine has an unusual habit of saying random words under his breath during sex. Through a little "investigating", Kurt realizes that those words aren't random. When he figures out exactly what they are, he gets insulted. A confrontation in the dairy section of their local supermarket reveals that it's not what Kurt thinks. Klaine


**Assumes that Kurt and Blaine didn't meet in high school, but later when they were adults. Also mentions that Kurt had more prior partners than Blaine. Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompt 'hello', using the previous prompts audience, bed, charm, dare, early, fair, and guess. Inspired by a prompt from the post post/148863222746/i-love-reading-fics-about-otps-having-mental-bonds**

Kurt didn't notice it in the beginning.

Probably because when everything was exciting and new with a lover, the focus, for Kurt, was on the physical – the way someone tasted, the way they felt, the way they made him feel. The noises Blaine made, as sexy as they were, low grunts and repetitive mumbles, didn't entirely register in Kurt's head. He was too busy making sure that his own noises didn't stray away from the sexy into the unintentionally comical or grotesque.

He might be a little more experienced than Blaine, with a few more lovers under his belt (so to speak), but that didn't make him any less nervous.

But as time went on, and they became comfortable with one another, Kurt began to listen – _really_ listen. And what he heard, frankly, was confusing.

And slightly insulting.

It happened when they were in the middle of it, really going at it, when the chant of pleas that included Kurt's name _(Kurt … oh, Kurt … yes, Kurt … just like that, Kurt …)_ turned into guttural mutters beneath Blaine's breath.

Kurt couldn't make out the words completely, so he didn't think much of it. He figured it was an attenuated version of the same … until he heard the word _apple_ , and then the word _cucumber_. _Then_ he became concerned.

At first came the obligatory _benefit of the doubt_. Maybe Kurt had heard him wrong. Or maybe Blaine had some kind of sexual Tourette's, where, in the throes of passion, he opened his mouth and whatever was first and foremost on his mind popped out of his mouth.

But then, why was he thinking about fruits and vegetables when he should be thinking about _Kurt_?

Further along they went, and Kurt started investigating. Kurt initiated sex more often to find out when it happened and how it happened. Was there a particular trigger? Did it happen when Kurt kissed Blaine's neck? When he licked his nipples? When he went down on him? When did it start? When did it end? How long did it go on?

If Kurt sped things up, could they avoid it?

If he drew things out, could he outlast it?

But no matter what Kurt did, no matter what technique he tried, the second Kurt sank down on Blaine's cock or entered him from behind, the words started coming.

It wasn't too long before Kurt realized what it was.

Blaine was making a shopping list.

Kurt prided himself on his memory – his ability to sing a song after hearing it once, to memorize a speech after a single cold reading. During one rather enthusiastic romp, Blaine's ability to keep his habit contained began to slip.

And that was the point. Kurt, with his mouth on Blaine's dick and his fist up his boyfriend's ass, was pulling out all of the stops.

And it worked.

"… cauliflower … Crispix … Lysol … peaches …"

Between grumbles and moans the words kept coming, and Kurt was determined to remember every last one. He had to know the connection. Why? Why was this happening? Kurt loved Blaine. He loved everything about him. Whatever this was, he needed to understand it, but so far, he had no answers.

Right before Blaine came, he muttered something about Post-It notes and butter. Kurt filed those away with the rest.

In the late afternoon, they decided to go to the supermarket to pick up ingredients for dinner. Kurt was in the mood for scallops, but there weren't any in the house. While they were there, Blaine decided to grab a few things he needed. Kurt paid close attention to the items Blaine chose, side-eyeing him as he began adding things to his hand basket.

A head of cauliflower.

A box of Crispix.

A can of Lysol spray.

A half-pound of peaches.

With every item Blaine put in the basket that matched a word from the list, Kurt felt his heart race. When Blaine tossed in a packet of yellow Post-Its, and then started deliberating between two different brands of butter, Kurt finally snapped.

"So … a shopping list? That's what you're thinking about when we're having sex? You're making a shopping list!?"

Blaine looked up from his tub of Land O' Lakes, eyes wide with the same fear one might exhibit when staring eye to eye with a stampeding bull.

"Wh-wh-what?" he stuttered. "I don't ... I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't act all innocent with me, Blaine Anderson!" Kurt snapped. "I'm not a moron and I'm not deaf! I hear you muttering under your breath when we're in bed together!"

Blaine's eyes darted immediately to his right, locking on a mom's passing by with her daughter, who hurried a step at Kurt's words.

"C-could you keep your voice down, Kurt?" Blaine whispered.

"Charming," Kurt sneered. "That's … that's just charming. Don't you dare get all high and mighty with me! I will raise my voice if I want to!"

"Kurt," Blaine tried again, knowing he'd probably fail this time, too. "We're attracting an audience."

"What? Am I embarrassing you?" Kurt raised his volume a notch higher. "What do you have to be embarrassed about? You're not the one who's apparently boring in bed!"

"What?" Blaine's face pinched. "When did I ever say you were boring in bed?"

"Like, _hello_? You were making a _shopping list_ while you were making love to _me_! Am I that dull that you have to think about something else while you're fucking me?"

"No, no," Blaine said, keeping his voice low even though Kurt's kept getting higher. "It's actually the opposite." Kurt crossed his arms, quirked an eyebrow, and Blaine knew he was treading into dangerous territory. He swallowed hard. "I have to think of something else when I have sex with you, something stupid and mundane, or else I …" Blaine stopped speaking when another mom walked by, throwing a hefty glare his way. His skin flared so bright pink all over, he could feel the butter in his hands melting.

"You _what_? Don't make me guess, because everything running through my brain right now doesn't make you look good. Me neither."

"Because …" Blaine's face suddenly went from pink to catastrophically red "… then I cum too quickly. And, I don't want it to end too fast. You've had more partners than I have, Kurt, and you seem like you can go forever. I just … feel a little inadequate. That's all."

"Excuse me? Can you two take this somewhere else?" a bossy woman barked, stepping in between them to grab a tub of Parkay.

"No, we can't. Just because _you're_ not getting any doesn't mean you have to get testy at _us_ ," Kurt snapped. "Enjoy your _butter_."

The woman huffed, stalking off to the tittering of other customers who may have been uncomfortable over the topic of conversation, but who had had no intention of interrupting.

Drama was drama, after all, even if it erupted in the dairy section.

Blaine would have snickered, too, if he didn't feel like his relationship was falling apart.

And Kurt knew that. Kurt knew how much more inexperienced Blaine was than he. He took a breath, counted to ten, and began to simmer down.

"Blaine …" Kurt put a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, leading him away from the limelight and down the cereal aisle. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I over-reacted, and I'm sorry that I didn't just come out and ask you. But I was hurt. That's all. When I thought that I was boring you, it bruised my ego. But I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. That wasn't fair."

"It's not your fault," Blaine said. "I should have discussed this with you earlier. In fact, I should get in the habit of talking to you about my insecurities instead of keeping them bottled up. It's just not something I'm used to doing. Not too many people in my life have been very good at listening."

"You're in luck, then," Kurt said, sliding his arm around Blaine's shoulders and giving him a squeeze, "because, as you can tell, I am an _incredible_ listener."

Blaine chuckled, soft and shy. "Yeah, you are. And I thought I was being so cunning, too."

"You were for the first month or so, but think about what you were up against." Kurt leaned in to Blaine's ear and whispered, "My mouth can make you reveal _all_ of your secrets, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine glowed red from his roots to his heels, but that didn't keep him from coming back with, "Maybe you can let me try and return the favor?"

Kurt raised another brow; this one highly suggestive … and intrigued. "Indeed," he said. "By all means." Kurt abandoned his half-filled cart where it stood, grabbed Blaine's arm, and headed for the cash registers.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Blaine asked, tripping over his feet as he attempted to reach out and retrieve Kurt's cart.

"We're going to pay for your things and head back to my place."

"But … but what about your cart? You're leaving it behind."

"Exactly." Kurt smirked. "With a promise like the one you just made, I think I'm going to need a list of my own."


End file.
